After This Cyclist Got Hit By a Car, He Rode Across the U.S. to Spread a Mindful Message
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Name: Michael O’Brien
Age: 54
Hometown: Tenafly, New Jersey
Occupation: Speaker, executive coach, and meditation teacher at Pause Breathe Reflect
Time Cycling: 40 years
Reason for Cycling: Cycling is life. It throws everything at you, and you need to figure out how to keep pedaling.
I was the last kid on the block to move from training wheels to a “big kid” bike. When I finally did, I thought I could go anywhere. This feeling stayed with me as I transitioned from my Schwinn Sting-Ray to a 3-speed to my Raleigh. In 1981, my Dad won a “French” 10-speed at our church picnic, and I thought it was the coolest thing ever. Around that time, I began watching Tour de France segments on CBS sports. European racing seemed exotic and gritty. I was hooked.
I was also lucky that my neighbor was cycling innovator Georgena Terry and she introduced me to Bicycling. Throw in the 1984 Olympics, The Coors Classic, and Greg LeMond, and I was head over heels in love with cycling.
I got the racing bug, and to my parent’s surprise, I started shaving my legs, hanging out at bike shops, and drifting away from traditional American sports.
I rode daily and started doing local Tuesday evening time trials and Thursday circuit races. I even set up Kreitler Rollers in our damp basement during winter. I studied Edward Borysewicz’s Bicycle Road Racing: The Complete Program for Training and Competition and saved enough money for my first racing bike: a Trek 760. I think it set me back $700.
I continued racing through college and my early professional days, but took a break when I met my wife and started running and doing duathlons.
After getting into running and doing a couple of marathons, including Marine Corps and Boston, I came back to cycling. I was out in New Mexico for a corporate retreat and brought my bike out to get some training miles in for some upcoming races, but I never made it to them. That’s because on July 11, 2001, I was hit head-on by an S.U.V. who crossed fully into my lane at 40 m.p.h. It was another random act of cycling violence that was preventable.
I had multiple critical injuries, including a tear in my femoral artery, a major blood vessel that starts in the thigh. The initial impact knocked me out, and when I regained consciousness, I asked the EMTs a question only another cyclist could appreciate: “How’s my bike?” They told me it was fine, which it wasn’t. Then they told me to breathe.
The trauma team at the University of New Mexico Health Center told my wife that I wouldn't have made it to the hospital alive if I had been ten years older or not in shape.
After several days in the intensive care unit, I started learning more about my crash and prognosis. It was bleak. They didn’t think I would ride again and predicted a lifetime of limitations. I was angry and even vengeful in the early days of my recovery, until one day a mentor shared: “Everything is neutral until you label it, Michael. You get to decide if this happened to you or for you.”
At first, I didn’t understand, but eventually, I realized that I had to heal my mind to heal my body and thus embarked on my mindfulness and gratitude practices which are part of my life today.
I now call July 11, 2001, my “Last Bad Day.” It’s not a unicorn and rainbow statement that ignores reality. Instead, it’s about gratitude and acknowledging life’s ephemeral qualities.
The way I see it is that if I have my family, friends, and a caring peloton in my life, then I can’t call the whole day bad. Yes, we all have bad moments, but we don’t need to give them more fuel than they deserve and have them ripple out of control.
That brief moment in 2001 created a chronic condition I live with today. It hasn’t been easy or linear to get to this point. I've endured over a dozen surgeries, infections and complications, countless hours of physical rehab, self-doubt, and moments when I didn't want to continue. Still, I found a way to keep pedaling by realizing that without mud, there’s no lotus.
After my mindset shift, I returned to a childhood dream of riding across the country, but I stopped sharing it with others because most told me it wasn’t possible after what I had been through. They told me I should be happy to be alive and to put my “crazy” dream on the shelf. But I didn’t listen to them. I didn’t know when I would do it, but each day I set the intention to take a small step toward it.
After the intensity of the pandemic, my wife and I decided to do it in 2021. I would ride while my wife drove the RV with our dogs. But due to my initial trauma, I finally needed the total knee replacement that my medical team predicted back in 2001. Thanks to the excellent care team at the Hospital for Special Surgery (HSS) in New York City, I received my new knee on July 21, 2021, and started the rehabbing process to be ready for the ride in 2022.
I called it the Rise 2 Ripple Challenge—a bike ride that spans more than 4,000 miles and ten states—from Astoria, Oregon to Yorktown, Virginia—because Rise symbolizes resilience. The number “2” is about a bridge to something new and connects with 2022. Ripple signifies the importance of our energy and how we can show up for each other. These are all elements I believe we need in the United States and across the globe. We need to find a way to get back up, create a better tomorrow for all, and send a ripple of kindness instead of divisiveness and hate.
There are many parts of the ride I’m proud of, but I was proud of the start. Too often, our self-doubt or the perspective of others gets in the way of our dreams. Certainly, there were plenty of reasons not to ride across the country, but I had faith that if I started then I would finish. As the hockey great, Wayne Gretzky said, “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”
The ride took place this summer, from June 14 to July 31, which raised funds for HSS research and 45 other charities. To say it was epic doesn’t quite capture it. It was life-changing. I took the TransAm Bike Route from Astoria, Oregon, to Newton, Kansas, then picked up the Eastern Express, which carried me from Kansas City to The Lincoln Memorial. I covered 3,600 miles over 41 days. I rode through the Oregon rain, the Wyoming winds, the Colorado peaks, extreme heat, countless cornfields, and on iconic trails like the Katy, Great Allegheny Passage, and the C&O Canal trail.
It deepened my love for this country. It’s not perfect, but it’s beautiful and needs healing in many places. During my ride, I thought about a quote I first heard from journalist Krista Tippett, “Anger is when pain makes a public appearance.” Yes, our country is divided, but I believe we can create a better tomorrow for all of us if we slow down and hear, see, and appreciate our humanity even if we don’t see the world the same way. It’s one way we can start to heal our pain.
On each day of the ride, I profiled a non-profit/charity (in total more than 45), trying to do this work. I hope my ride gave people a reason to be optimistic, and I hope I defined what’s possible after joint replacement, and inspired others to do some “hard things.”
I like to call myself “The Mindful Cyclist,” and want to continue to create more inclusion and belonging within cycling. We are making progress, but still have miles to pedal.
Additionally, I want to share the importance of mindful living and mental health in cycling through sponsorship of female/femme/trans cycling teams/clubs, like Team Sugoi NYC Velo and L.A. Sweat, through Pause Breathe Reflect™, my organization which promotes mindfulness through apparel, motivational speaking, and more.
Next year, I plan to ride New York’s 750-mile Empire Trail, enter some gravel races and events, and be an inspiration to others facing joint replacement surgery.
My early days of cycling were all about racing, going fast, and looking fit on the outside, but I’ve realized that cycling has been nourishing me from the inside out. I used to take my health, mobility, and cycling for granted until I lost it. Today I appreciate every ride I take— especially the challenging ones because I’m healthy enough to take them on.
It also has helped me create a deeper connection with myself, ease my stress, and learn to appreciate that every moment is temporary, obstacles are part of the ride, and I can get through anything when I keep pedaling. For me, cycling isn’t just a sport; it’s a way of life.
Over the last two years, many now see that mental health is health, and we are all going through something. Meditation and mindful living were keys to my recovery, accelerated my corporate executive career, and today I share its benefits with others. Mindfulness can help us expand our awareness, sharpen our focus, reduce stress, and improve our cycling experience. It’s no longer woo-woo; it’s the secret ingredient to a rich life and may make some of those hills easier to climb.
These tips have made my cycling journey a success:
1. Look ahead
If you want to be smooth through turns and past obstacles, be intentional about where you are looking. Remember, your bike goes with your gaze. Focus on the best line through the turn, and that’s the path your wheels will take.
2. Get to know your heart rate zones
To get the most from your training and to have the fitness you desire, get to know your heart rate zones. And then train hard (zone 5), recover smart (zone 1), and have a solid low-end aerobic base (zone 2). These are essential for overall health, longevity, and cycling success.
3. Practice some yoga
Yoga is a beautiful complement to cycling because it helps with body alignment, develops core strength, and enhances the connection between movement and breath. It’s a great way to keep you pedaling over the long haul. Plus, as Sharika says, “hips don't lie.” When you open your hips, cycling gets easier.
4. Focus on you
Finally: There will always be someone faster, fitter, or with better equipment, so don’t fall into the “comparison-itis” trap. Just clip in, get outside, do you, and breathe through your nose—you’ll swallow fewer bugs.
Michael’s Must-Have Gear
→Garmin Varia RCT715 Radar Camera Tail Light: This is one of my best cycling purchases ever because it gives me eyes in the back of my head. I relied on my Garmin countless times during my cross-country ride. It kept me safe and away from harm.
→Maple UnTapped All Natural Athletic Fuel: There’s something about the taste of maple syrup that makes me feel like a kid. Plus, it’s all-natural, has antioxidants and other goodness, and I find it easier to digest than other gels.
→OOFOS Sandals: There’s nothing like slipping out of your cycling shoes and sliding into a pair of OOFOS to reduce stress on your feet and joints. If I train hard, I want to recover harder, and they do just that.
→Theragun: I’m not a pro-cyclist, so I can’t get a massage frequently. Fortunately, my Theragun solves this problem. It helps promote my recovery, so I can hop on my bike, fresh and ready to go.
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